


MPD, MD.

by axton_loves_shipping



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Castiel, Doctor Castiel, F/M, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Omega Castiel, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Police Officer Dean, Scent Marking, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2018-12-31 21:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12141849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axton_loves_shipping/pseuds/axton_loves_shipping
Summary: Dean Winchester, the lead sheriff of Milton Police Department, had always had a quiet life in the small, rural county of Milton, South Dakota. His life had always had a sense of normalcy, if that’s what you could call it. Always the first to respond to calls, emergency or not. His life revolved around picking drunk teenagers up from abandoned parties, ticketing that one nuisance for speeding in town, and having a beer with his brother on his off nights. The alpha had his own normal, even if he was missing sharing a bed.Castiel Novak, the newest emergency doctor in Milton-Mercy Medical Hospital, had never had a normal. His normal was the chaos of emergency medicine, something he’d worked toward his entire life. A failed relationship and an internship later, the omega finds himself taking a job at a hospital in some city miles away from his home with a population less than one thousand.It doesn’t take long for the two to meet. It takes longer for Castiel to finally fall for the charm of those green eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

His first day on the job, he was shot.

His second day on the job, he was stabbed.

His first week on the job, he had more injuries than any other officer in the Milton Police Department.

Dean Winchester never imagined having a career in law enforcement, his passion was always for mechanical engineering. He wasn’t the brightest in school, but he still liked to work with his hands. Welding and woodworking filled his electives in high school, he wished for nothing more than to fix up old cars. He fixed up his own car from the ground up, the ’67 Chevy was his baby. He fixed his brother’s car, a ’68 Camaro, the way his brother liked, with the racing stripe paint, an eight-cylinder engine, and a big enough gas tank to support his excursions in the mountains of South Dakota.

The opportunity for law enforcement arose when he was a senior in high school, and he needed to find a way to pay for college. Sam had gotten into Harvard Law on a full ride academic scholarship and a partial athletic scholarship for football. At a college fair, he learned that Milton’s law enforcement was recruiting, with offers of paid tuition to a college of his choice, a guaranteed job when he graduated, and full benefits of a police officer.

He grew up in the small town of Milton, South Dakota with his brother, Sam, and his twin sisters, Jo and Ellen. His father, John, was a hard-working man in the Marine Corps. His mother, Mary, was a nurse in Milton-Mercy Medical Hospital, the only medical center within the next three hundred miles. Jo and Ellen were still attending high school, both sophomores.

John was happy when his only alpha came home in his intern deputy uniform. His sisters congratulated him and swooned over his uniform. Sam slapped him on the back and told him he was proud he was finally making something of his life. Mary, however, had to retire back to the backyard to cry without upsetting the twins. Dean walked out to comfort her, but she could only offer him a weak smile and a ‘stay safe, my son’ in return.

Milton was a rural community, nestled at the base of the mountains of central South Dakota. With only a population of one thousand, it was considered a farming community, with miles of corn fields and pastures greener than any other town Dean had seen, it was promoted as a family-oriented town. A high school of only fifty kids, an elementary school of two hundred, and lots of retirement aged folks, the town was the postage stamp compared to the rest of the United States, but that is what Dean loved about the town.

Of course, Castiel Novak couldn’t stand how small the town was.

He grew up in the bustling windy city of Chicago, Illinois with his brothers: Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Balthazar, Uriel, and Samandriel; his sisters: Naomi, Ariel, Hannah, Anna, and Emma; his mother and father: Amara and Chuck; and their cat Sheryl.

His family was one of wealth, Chuck and Amara owning their own pharmaceutical company that provided life-saving chemotherapy, immunotherapy, and hormonal treatments to low-income households and hospitals. The main source of income was from the investors, those wealthy enough to donate towards research for more cost-effective treatment options.

Chuck and Amara kept a small share of profits from the sales of the drugs to hospitals, and the company expanded from just Chicago and the Midwest out to both coasts, the United Kingdom, France, and Germany.

The money was enough to keep them living in comfort. Castiel never had to worry about where his next meal would come from, how to pay for his college education, or where he’d be sleeping. He lived in a small home with Michael, Gabriel, and Balthazar, the last of the Novak’s to gain a college education. Lucifer was an accountant, Uriel was a Senator, Samandriel owned a chain of family restaurants. Naomi, Ariel, and Emma were still in high school, Hannah was a veterinarian, and Anna was traveling the world.

He couldn’t imagine life without his oversized family. He grew up as a middle child, always the brute of Lucifer and Balthazar’s torment. His older sisters, Hannah and Emma, couldn’t care less about him. His achievements in the family gained quick recognition when he hit grade school, and eventually high school. He graduated Valedictorian, top of his class, and got into UC Davis on a full ride academic scholarship.

Due to his parents’ background in pharmaceuticals, he took the pre-med option in college. Moving away was the last thing on his mind, but he was also excited to start making new friends. He moved through his classes with no problems, passing everything with A’s or higher. He also took a route towards emergency medicine, taking quick notice to the lack of emergency doctors in the surrounding areas.

His internship at Linda Vista Hospital in Los Angeles proved his theory.

Shootings, stabbings, riots, and all other kinds of violence on civilians and gang members made him quick to adapt to every changing situation. Sometimes the late nights he took at the hospitals would give him new challenges he’d never faced before, and it tested the limits of his calm demeanor. He couldn’t imagine working a regular shift after facing the worst of the gang shootings, or a worried mother with her feverish infant. He would take emergency medicine over a 9-5 general practitioner.

Of course, being an omega in medicine was never easy for Castiel. Alpha and Beta gang members weren’t too kind to have a ‘sissy little bitch for a doctor’ treating their wounds. His diagnosis of a cold in the infant had her mother questioning his credentials. Then there were the unwanted sexual advances of his older male and female colleagues, who were intent on breeding him or just making him uncomfortable.

The offer of becoming a resident at Milton-Mercy Medical Hospital came not even minutes after his final shift of being an intern had ended. Picking up the clothing from his locker and rinsing his blood-covered coat, his colleague and then boyfriend Oliver let him know that the resident in Milton had retired, and that they were looking for someone trained in the field of emergency medicine. At first, he was on the line about it, but after a drink with Oliver and a lengthy conversation later, he accepted the job. Oliver broke off the relationship the day before Castiel was to move out of Los Angeles.

As he gripped the steering wheel of his Prius, he questioned whether he made the right decision. He hadn’t seen a sign for Milton within the past fifty miles of open highway, even though the GPS told him specifically that he would be entering the county of Milton within the next mile and a half. Looking in front of him, he could see mountains rising over the green pastures. He passed farm after farm, a mixture of animals in every pasture. Separated by only barbed wire and small red lines, he counted at least twenty since he passed through the last busy town.

A small green sign announced ‘Milton County Lines. Population: 1,300. 350 feet above sea level.’

He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, pushing on the gas slightly more now that he knew he was in the right spot.

A patrol car sat parked next to the sign.

Dean pointed his speed radar at the car. Two red numbers popped up on the screen of the radar, a reading of 45. He sat back and kicked his feet up, grabbing his radio.

“Bobby, you online?”

‘ _What’s going on, Dean?_ ’

“I think the new doctor’s here. Green Prius.”

' _10-4._ ' 

Dean picked up his phone and hummed to himself, shooting a text to Sam.

‘New doctor’s here, go see him for that rash.’

He moved to set it down, but a quick vibration said Sam had already responded.

‘Jerk.’

Dean typed a quick response.

‘Bitch.’

>>>

His new house sat in the middle of a nice community of elderly people, which was probably why it was so cheap. It was a nice cottage, a lot smaller than what he grew up in, smaller than what he was living in when he was in Los Angeles, but he had a front yard and a back yard, so he couldn’t complain. He parked his car in the driveway and looked at the baby blue house.

“Everything happens for a reason,” he muttered to himself.

He got out of the car and opened the hatch. He picked up a box and opened the gate to the white picket fence that was around the yard. His front door was unlocked, and inside there was the furniture the last owners left: a nice beige couch, a cherry wood coffee table, two grey chairs on the sides of the couch, and a table next to the front door. He dropped his keys on the door, set the box on the couch, and went to check out the rest of the house.

A powder room was right off the front, and the large front windows let in so much light he knew he’d have a cheap electric bill. Behind the couch was a desk, where a makeshift office space was. The kitchen was off to the side of the office space. It was updated, with dark oak cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and a white quartz countertop. The island had chairs underneath it, to be used as dining space. His bedroom was down the hallway from the kitchen, with a California king memory foam bed, an en suite bathroom with a soaking tub and rainfall showerhead, double vanity, and a huge walk in closet.

His eyes went wide when he saw how much space was in his backyard. He had a patio where he could put furniture, he had gardening space, space to get a dog or two.

He made his way back to his bedroom, where he flopped onto the bed and sighed quietly. The past tenants had washed the bedding and doused the house in neutralizers, so the remnants of any scent were gone. This was his house. Not Gabriel’s, not Balthazar’s, not Michael’s, but _his_.

The doorbell ringing had him back on his feet, and he was met with the smell of a fresh apple pie. He looked up and saw a young couple at his door.

“Hi! We don’t mean to interrupt your private time. My name is Mary, this is my husband, John. We don’t get many new faces around here, and we heard you were the new attending physician at the hospital. Just wanted to bring you a housewarming gift, special recipe apple pie.”

Castiel was taken aback by the kindness in the woman’s eyes. The man, John, nodded quickly.

“Her pies are to die for!”

He stepped forward and took the pie from Mary, a soft smile creeping on his lips.

“Thank you, ma’am, sir. I’m Castiel.”

He reached out and shook John’s hand first, then Mary’s. Alpha and Beta, his mind was telling him. The calloused and soft hands left their mark on Castiel’s mind, and he looked down at the warm apple pie in his hands.

“It does smell amazing, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Mary.”

Castiel nodded and set the pie down. John looked at his watch.

“Well, I think we should be going. Dean will be home anytime soon with lunch.”

Mary nodded and Castiel smiled.

“It was nice to meet you.”

John shook his hand one more time. The distinct smell of a neutralizer was strong on them both, and he knew it was to protect him from being overwhelmed. The happy couple turned around and left.

Dean arrived home as Mary and John did, a bag of sandwiches in his hands. He could already smell the new scent on his parents, a soft scent of roses and honeydew, a hint of aftershave, and rubbing alcohol. He had to swallow past his dry mouth and he greeted his parents happily.

“Lunch?”

“Sounds good.”

They sat at their rickety kitchen table, halfway through their sandwiches, when Dean brought up the burning question.

“So, you met the new doctor?”

Mary sat her food down and nodded.

“His name is Castiel.”

Dean took a sip of water.

“Is he…?”

“He’s an omega.”

That explained the scent.

“What did you do at work today, Dean?”

“Boring stuff. Paperwork, speed control, the usual, sir.”

John just nodded.

“You know, back in the Corps…”

“Oh god, dad, not again.”

“Honey, your father might have a point.”

“…we were never bored. We always had something to do. If you’re bored at work, that means you don’t have enough responsibility.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And how many times did you tell that to your commanding officer, sir?”

“Too many to count. You can never have too much responsibility.”

“Should tell that to Sammy. I’m done doing his fucking laundry.”

“Language!”

“Sorry, mom.”

John just gave Dean a warning look and he looked at his watch again.

“You really should get back to the station. Bobby’ll be expecting you. What time are you coming home?”

“Somewhere around 2200, sir. I still have paperwork to put in for the drunk kids at that bonfire last night.”

Dean wrapped his sandwich up and got up, kissing his mom and patting his dad on the back goodbye.

“Stay safe, honey!”

<<<

The coat fit a little snugly around his waistline. Castiel looked at himself in the mirror before patting his stomach. A paper plate and a fork was thrown in his small trash can by his bed. He had never tasted an apple pie like Mary’s before in his life, and he believed it to be the best pie he could possibly get locally.

He grabbed his glasses, a thin, black framed pair of glasses, and slid them on his face. He ran his fingers through his unruly mop of black hair, and made his way out.

His first day in Milton was the first day of being the attending doctor at Milton-Mercy, and he was nervous. He’d worked in a fast-paced emergency room in Los Angeles, and with Milton’s population being only 1,300, he knew he was in for a slow day.

Boy, was he wrong.

He walked into a waiting room of elderly patients, a few mothers with children in soccer uniforms, and a few police officers with clearly drunk kids with handcuffs on. A nurse greeted him with a cup of black coffee in hand and a chart for him to look at.

“Doctor Novak, it’s nice to see you here so early! I’m Meg, I’m the attending RN here. Here’s your chart, in order of severity.”

He looked down at the chart and back to Meg.

“Bring me Mrs. Whiteland first.”

“On it.”

Julie Whiteland was a frequent flyer. With chronic COPD in a rural community full of dust and allergens, her cough had gotten worse. A new inhaler and a half an hour later, she was out of the hospital.

Then came the others.

Miles Delaware (“This will clear up those spots.”)

Kimmy Delaware (“Antibiotics.”)

Officer Mica Langely with the Delaware’s drunk son, Lance. (“Room 2, please.”)

Gregory Westly and his mother Fiona (“Just a sprain.”)

And many others.

His last patient of the day was an Officer Dean Winchester, with a stab wound to his back. Castiel had him brought back to a room next to Gregory and his mother, who were getting ready to leave. Castiel pulled on some gloves, and he could see where the knife had torn through his uniform and the lesion it had left on his skin. Dean held a gauze pad to his shoulder.

“Like I told my boss, doc, I’m fine. It’s nothing a little whiskey and duct tape can’t fix.”

“As a medical professional, I would discourage that.”

Dean let out a small laugh.

“You must be Cas, right?”

Castiel stared at the man, a little dumbfounded.

“Castiel, yes.”

“I’m Dean, nice to meet you.”

He shook the alpha’s hand, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise.

“N-nice. Yeah. Uh, Meg! Yeah, Meg, can you get me some sutures, gauze, and disinfectant?” He caught the nurse’s attention, who simply nodded and walked away. Dean looked away from Castiel and looked at the green curtain separating the room.

“First day?”

“Yeah. Long one too. Mind removing your shirt for me, officer? I need to get a better look at your wound.”

Dean bit his lip and set the bloody gauze down. He unbuttoned his shirt, untucked it, and gently pulled the fabric to the side.

Castiel was not ready to see miles of tanned, ripped skin in front of him. Maybe it was his hormones, or his omega part of his mind going insane, but he couldn’t help but stare. A fit, hot alpha was just sitting there, submissive. He shook his head and grabbed some gauze. He placed a few drops of rubbing alcohol on the material and began to clean the area, wiping away the dried blood and fragments of shirt from the wound. Dean flinched at the sting, but he didn’t make a sound.

Meg came back with a tray of items for Castiel, who finished up cleaning.

“You’re one lucky man, Mr. Winchester. No nerve damage, no major arteries were hit, and it didn’t hit any major muscles. You’ll be sore for the next few days, so I need you to get some rest.”

He began to stitch the area closed, and he clipped the excess thread off.

“Come back in two weeks to have those removed. I’ve prescribed some antibiotics to kill any bacteria left, and you are due for a tetanus jab, so Meg will deliver that while you’re waiting to be discharged.”

Dean nodded and Castiel threw away his gloves. A quick wash of his hands and he shook Dean’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, doc. Good to have a nice doctor back in town.”

Castiel smiled and shrugged.

“Just doing my job.”

Castiel went to the break room behind the nurses’ station. He closed the door, sat down in a chair, and put his face on the table.

It had been a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: mention of attempted suicide, mention of sexual assault, mention of rape kit, mention of abuse by teacher, description of car accident

September 21, 2010

It had been exactly a week since Castiel had moved to Milton, and he had already fallen into a new normal.

He started his work days with breakfast in bed, usually a bowl of the cheapest cereal at the general store, then he would throw on a pair of sweats and go for a jog. He crossed paths with Dean so many times that they began to run together, the doctor and police officer racing each other through most of the trail (Dean wins most of the time), then a light walk back to the meeting spot. A quick, cold shower and skincare regimen later, and a rake of his fingers through his hair, he was ready to begin his day in the hospital. He was out the door by 5:30 am and arrived at the hospital at 5:46.

His day started with the patients the general practitioner labeled ‘urgent’, then he moved on to the emergency rush. Most of his day was spent treating patients who came into the emergency for things that weren’t exactly considered an emergency: scraped knees, mothers screaming about broken bones that were just sprains and strains, normal allergy symptoms from the abundance of tree pollen in the air.

The police officers that brought patients in, however, was a different story.

Castiel had already experienced Officer Winchester’s first responses: a man who had accidentally overdosed on pain killers, a teenager who intentionally tried to overdose on sleeping pills (‘Already fed him a bottle of charcoal, Dr. Novak’), an expectant mother who went into labor early, and another few drunks who were wreaking havoc on the neighborhood.

Since the first day Castiel met Dean and his parents, he had been on the edge about the neutralizers he used to hide his scent. Dean and his parents had finally stopped using them around him, so when he caught a quick whiff of old leather and gunpowder, he looked up from the chart he was viewing at the nurses’ station and cracked a smile. Dean had a teenager in tow, she could be no older than fourteen or fifteen, and a serious look on his face.

“Doctor, can we speak in private?”

Castiel set the chart down and nodded, motioning towards the triage room. Once inside, they sat down across from each other, the girl glued to Dean’s side.

“What seems to be the problem today?”

Dean bit his lip and looked at the girl, who stared blankly at the ground.

“I need you to do a rape kit.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Dean nodded and squeezed his hands together.

“She came to the front office in the school, and she told me she had been sexually assaulted.”

Castiel looked at the girl, whose cheeks were flushed red with shame. Castiel stood up and swallowed thickly, standing up and moving to the door.

“Stay here, let me talk to the female nurses.”

He shut the door quietly behind him and hurried his walk to the nurses’ station, where Meg was monitoring the different screens on the vitals machines.

“Meg.”

“Clarence.”

“How many times have I told you my name is Castiel?”

“Would it kill you to read a book?”

“Not the point. I need you to do a rape kit.”

Meg looked up at him, her eyes growing soft.

“Alright, Castiel. I will.”

Castiel let out a short sigh of relief.

“Just call me in when you’re done getting set up. I don’t want to traumatize her any more than she already is.”

Meg got up and got Mary to watch the vitals. Castiel turned around, only to bump into Dean, whose scent was quite strong in that moment.

“Listen, Cas, I would stay, but I got a ton of paperwork to do. I’ll stop by around noon, okay?”

Castiel nodded quickly.

“A plan.”

Dean did a quick two-finger salute, waved his mom goodbye, and left. Castiel changed his gloves and got back to work, pulling back a curtain to check on a patient.

“Mrs. Jones, how are you feeling this morning?”

>>>

Dean stepped outside the hospital and ran his fingers through his hair. The first rape case in the ten years he’s been on the force, the only other one he worked through was when he was an intern.

It was still as emotional as the last one. A beta female high school student, sexually assaulted by an alpha teacher after hours. The teacher claimed the girl came onto him, and he knew that the jury would never believe the man’s statements. They still needed DNA evidence to arrest and arraign the teacher, but the accusation was enough to have Dean serve him a letter of administrative leave.

Dean took a few calming breaths before walking out to his patrol car. He picked his radio before starting the car.

“Bobby, you online?”

‘ _Go ahead, Dean._ ’

“Call in Special Victims. Vic is being checked out at Milton-Mercy. On case is Novak, update to follow.”

‘ _10-4._ ’

Dean pulled out of the parking lot and made his way back to the station to fill out paperwork before the Special Victims Unit of South Dakota came in. He needed to get the request in and approved so he didn’t have to do it later.

Desk duty was not his favorite part of being on the force, but it was necessary for them to have their ducks in a row before making tactical decisions. The department had to keep paperwork running to make sure the costs of calling in special teams and making decisions were covered by either the county or state government.

In a typical sexual assault situation, Special Victims wouldn’t be called if: 1. The victim was over the age of 21. 2. The victim had no clear physical signs of abuse. 3. The victim and perpetrator came to an agreement in the eyes of the judge for fair punishment. In this case, there was a clear indicator of sexual abuse and the victim was under the age of 21. Therefore, she couldn’t be represented in court without parental consent, and even then, she was still young and vulnerable to being manipulated.

Sergeant Olivia Benson and her partner Sergeant Elliot Stabler were always the first to arrive, then came Fin Tutuola, John Munch, and finally Rafael Barba, the lead prosecutor and a great representative of the victim. Dr. George Huang would be arriving soon. The doctor would be spending some time at the hospital with the victim before he would talk to Dean.

He had worked with this team only a month before Castiel had arrived at Milton. They had suspected a child to have been sexually abused, only to have the physician tell them the little girl had a chronic yeast infection that nobody had bothered to get checked out.

“Mr. Winchester, always good to see you in good health!” Olivia gave Dean a hug before pulling away to shake his hand.

“Please, Olivia, call me Dean.”

“Sure thing.”

“Dean, nice to see you again.” Elliot shook his hand and gave him a smile. Dean nodded and moved down the line, greeting the detectives and shaking their hands. Once finished, he squared his shoulders and clapped his hands.

“Shall we move this to the conference room?”

The group murmured a few yesses and Dean picked up a pink box from underneath his desk.

“Is that what I think it is?” Olivia asked.

“It’s apple, isn’t it?” Elliot remarked.

“You know, a little chocolate won’t kill ya.” Fin seemed dissatisfied.

“C’mon, Fin. Lighten up. At least it’s something.” John patted Fin’s back.

“Enough about the pie, we need to get to business.” Rafael took the head of the round table as they made their way into the room. Dean set the pie down near Olivia, and he went to grab plates and forks from one of the cupboards.

“Well, here’s what I know so far: she’s only fourteen, the teacher is nearing fifty, he’s been known to be the most requested teacher for tutoring, and she said it was her price to pay to pass the class.”

Olivia shook her head.

“Sick, sadistic bastard.”

Elliot looked over Dean’s notes.

“Have you told the family?”

“Not yet. I’m waiting on the rape kit.”

Dean’s radio kicked on and he leaned his head to hear it better.

‘Dispatch on alert, 502, 505, please respond.’

Dean clicked the button on his radio.

“10-4.”

He looked up at the group, who were now staring at Dean.

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll bring you up to date when I get back.”

Rafael waved Dean off, and he went to check out with Melinda at the front desk, picking up his gun, his non-lethal, and ammunition.

“502? Take the sedan.”

Dean picked up the keys laid in front of him and smiled.

“What would the department do without you?”

She shrugged.

“Crash and burn?”

Dean chuckled and walked out to patrol car #1124 and he let out a slow breath as he sat down in the driver’s side. The engine revved quickly and Dean took off down the freeway, keeping his eye out for any car that seemed to teeter off course. His radio clicked on again.

‘ _Be advised, reported 502 is a 2017 Toyota Tundra, license plate beginning with 7 Charlie Alpha 6._ ’

“10-4.”

He kept his eyes moving, making sure he could find the car.

A green car that matched the description came up ahead and Dean changed lanes to be behind him. The car seemed to ride the lines of the other lanes, and swerved around cars without using his blinker. Dean grabbed his radio.

“Winchester, 1142, in pursuit of 502.”

He turned his lights on and signaled the driver to pull off the freeway. The car swerved around to the fast lane and Dean grabbed his radio.

“Winchester, 1142, pursuit engaged, requesting backup and blockade.”

_'10-4_.’

The truck turned off the highway and onto a main road. He passed the hospital, the school, went back onto the freeway, and was lost in traffic. Dean groaned as he lost the car, pulling off the freeway to reconvene his thoughts.

“Winchester, 1142, vehicle lost on the 45, APB for green Toyota Tundra.”

‘ _Copy._ ’

Dean pulled the patrol car from the side of the road and to a four-way stop, preparing to go back to the station. He began to drive forward when a loud horn honk caught his attention.

The next thing he knew, the same green truck t-boned him on the driver’s side.

The immediate impact sent his car rolling over, once, twice, three times, and it landed upside-down. The first roll knocked Dean unconscious, so when the car settled, his head and arms hung from his seat, the seatbelts holding him in place.

Smoke poured from the truck, the scent of oil and gasoline thick in the air.

Two old women, who were resting on the porch of an adjacent house, witnessed the car accident. One lady went back inside to call for help, while the other one went to her neighbor’s house to grab their young son.

<<<

Castiel finished wrapping the cast around Jonah’s arm, gently patting his back.

“I’ll see you back in six weeks, okay?”

Jonah nodded and got up from the bed.

“Can I still work with this thing on?”

Castiel wrote a prescription for pain killers and nodded.

“I recommend you take it easy, but I can’t stop you from working.”

Jonah left the room with a nod when Castiel was paged into the main emergency room. He walked in to the nurses’ station to see Meg’s face pale, Mary crying on Judith’s shoulder, and a hush over the patients on beds in the halls. The radio kicked on again.

‘ _Bus en route, ETA five minutes. Dean Winchester, BP seventy-three over fifty one, oxygen saturation eighty four percent and dropping, heart rate dropping. Crash cart requested, please advise EOR for head trauma, multiple fractures in both legs, and possible neck injuries._ ’

The nurse relayed the information to Castiel, who was quick to jump into action.

“Clear bay 1, get me a crash cart on standby, get a ventilator on standby, prep the EOR, and suit up. I want response nurses ready to strip and receive.”

The nurses were quick to respond, even with Mary as emotional as she was.

Castiel scrubbed up and prepped for emergency surgery, having his gloves put on and his hair pulled back into a surgical cap when the doors opened.

Two EMTs were on either side of Dean, one bagging him, the other adding more fluids to his line. A third EMT went to the nurses’ station to fill out paperwork.

Dean looked horrible to the team’s digression. The first responders were quick to establish his airway, which had steadily improved his oxygen saturation, but according to his blood pressure, he was still bleeding in a place they couldn’t see.

“On three, one, two, three!”

They transferred him to their bed and he was now in the hands of Castiel.

The first thing they did was get him hooked onto the ventilator, keeping his airway open.

The second thing that happened was his uniform was cut off him.

Once the pants came off, Castiel could evaluate his legs.

From his thighs down, he had severe bruising, and when he pulled the waistband of his boxers down, he could see more bruising on his hips.

“I need a mobile X Ray in here.”

A nurse left the room. Castiel couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Get me an ultrasound too.”

A second nurse left the room.

Mary tended to the wounds on Dean’s face.

Castiel began to press his hands to the man’s extended stomach, which was hard and bounced back when he removed his hands.

“He needs to get into the OR, now. He’s got internal bleeding.”

Judith looked to Castiel.

“Are you sure? We can’t go on a whim now, doctor.”

“I’m positive. Let’s go!”

The nurses began getting Dean ready to be transported when a second person was brought in with what looked like severe burns.

“Shit, you take him, I’ll take the second one.”

The nurses ran off with Dean, Castiel jogging over to the new patient.

“Gary Herman, he’s the guy who hit Dean. We pulled him from his burning truck, got the flames under control. BP one forty over eighty, heart rate one twenty-three, oxygen saturation ninety six percent.”

“Bay two, nurses on standby.”

The EMTs brought him to the second room.

Castiel took a deep breath and got back to work.


	3. Chapter 3

September 22, 2010. 2:24 am.

Castiel finally stepped into the operating room, prepared for the long night ahead.

Dean had been properly sedated, a nurse keeping close watch on his vitals, adjusting the medicine as needed. A second nurse swabbed over Dean’s extended and bruised stomach, and Castiel stared down at his patient for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

“Meg.”

“Doctor Novak.”

“Scalpel please.”

>>> 

8:33 am.

Mary and John sat in the waiting room with the rest of the SVU team, their hands gripping each other’s tightly. Six hours had passed since Dean had first arrived, and no one had come out yet. Her face was blotchy from crying, and it was Olivia’s turn to pace up and down the hall. 

Every nurse that passed by the room made everyone jump, and then go back to the anxious waiting.

 Finn came in with two trays of coffee in his hands, setting them down on the tables. The silence was deafening. No one knew what to say, what to do, so they continued to wait, leaving the coffee untouched.

<<< 

A bowl sat opposite to the operating table, containing the ruptured spleen that was killing Dean. Castiel took a deep breath and stepped back, watching to see if the stitches would hold. No more blood was in the abdominal cavity, and he let out his breath.

“Great job, team. Let’s get him closed here and get him into CT. I want to know the extent of the damage by the next hour.”

>>> 

9:01 am.

Castiel threw the last of his hospital garments into the bin and removed his mask. He took the short walk to the waiting room, his hands rubbing together nervously.

This was the worst part of his job, telling the family the kind of danger their loved one

John and Mary, in all their years of having Dean on the force, had never had to deal with such a traumatic injury with Dean. There had been gun shot wounds, stab wounds, scratches, bite marks, anything in the book that never had him hospitalized for more than a day. But now, he had been in surgery for seven hours, with no check ins from the nurses and no updates on his condition.

Castiel walked into the waiting room, and a borage of questions fired at him from different directions.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“How much damage was done?”

“Do I need to donate a kidney?”

Castiel waved them towards the seats and sat down in front of John and Mary, making sure to focus on the couple but also answering the SVU’s questions as well.

“Dean is stable for now. There had been a lot of impact injuries, and I’m sure when he wakes up he will feel it. For now, we stopped the bleeding and repaired the most severe damage. We must wait for the CT results to come back before we can move on to repairing his leg. His arm was not compound, so I’ve already got him in a sling for now, but once we get imaging back we will see for sure. His vitals are stable for someone who’s suffered major blood loss. He’ll make it through.”

John let out a breath he had been holding and Mary let out a quiet sob. The team relaxed into their chairs and Olivia stood up. She looked over the team and put her hands to her chest.

“For the time being, we are relieved to hear that Winchester will be okay, but we also have a case to work. Tutuola, Stabler, go do interviews, me and Barba will see what’s been happening at school.”

Olivia turned to Mary and she held her hands. “May the Lord be with you in this trying time.” She kissed Mary’s hands and the team left. Castiel stood up and motioned towards the door.

“Go home, go get some rest. Your son is in good hands.”

He walked out with John and Mary. Meg had a cup of coffee for him, but he waved it off.

“Put me on call, alright? I need to pick up a change of clothes and a shower.”

“Take a nap while you’re at it.”

Castiel pulled his gloves off and picked up his pager.

“Call me if anything changes, or if Dean gets worse.”

He left, deciding to take the slow route home. He came home to a dark, cold house, throwing his keys on the side table and flicking the light on. He kicked his nurse shoes off, stripped down to his boxers, and made his way to his bed. He crawled under his covers and went to sleep.

<<< 

_Dean backed him up against the desk._

_“Doctor, doctor. How could I ever repay you?”_

_His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing._

_Mr. Dean Winchester, hot and heavy in his police uniform, stinking of leather and cinnamon, was pushing Castiel up against his desk, pinning him with his legs, and he let out a groan._

_Dean’s hands moved toward his shirt, opening the top button._

_Castiel practically purred at the hot air hitting his newly exposed skin._

_“Pretty little omega, just for me?”_

_Another two buttons, and Dean’s obscene mouth was now on his nipple, slick running down the back of his thighs and staining his scrubs._

_“Dean.”_

_A loud beeping noise made him look over at the monitor on his desk._

_“Dean.”_

_He closed his eyes and laced his fingers in Dean’s hair._

“Dean.”

Castiel gasped as he awoke, his pager vibrating annoyingly on his nightstand. The first thing he noticed was the layer of sweat covering his body, and when he turned his body he noticed his slick was stuck to his thighs, staining his boxers and sheets. He groaned as he got up and out of the bed, pulling the top sheet off with him so he could wash it. He threw it down in the corner of the room and kicked off his soiled boxers, making his way to the bathroom to warm up the shower.

He stepped into the hot water, letting the heat warm up his skin and relax his tense muscles. He felt his slick begin to loosen from his thighs and he grabbed his bar of neutralizing soap, the scent of arousal soon being replaced with the calming scent of cotton and lotion.

He scrubbed everywhere he could reach, paying close attention to his neck, his chest, under his arms, and between his thighs. He looked down at his cock and sighed quietly.

He bit his lip in contemplation before finally reaching down to stroke himself to full hardness.

He began with slow, steady strokes, his fingers squeezing his sensitive head for a few seconds before letting go.

His thoughts drifted to Oliver at first, the olive-toned boy with the beautiful gray eyes, and he imagined his hands on him.

The gray eyes turned a darker green, and he found Oliver had changed to Dean, and he visualized his muscular hands tracing every inch of his body. His hand found its way to his nipple, and he pulled back fragments of his dream, of Dean’s hot mouth just nipping at his chest.

The water washed away the slick that began to run down his thighs again and he moved his hand from his nipple to reach around and down. He made sure he was wet enough before he  pushed a finger inside himself, and he leaned against the shower wall, his face flushed red. He pumped one finger in and out before finally adding a second one and letting go. The hand on his cock began to move a little faster, and he rocked himself back and forth into his fingers and his hand. He leaned his head on the cool tile and let out a quiet whimper as he came in long ropes, painting the tile white. He slowly pulled his fingers from himself and sank to the shower floor, his hand coming off his softening cock and wiping the cum from the wall. He rinsed himself off and stepped out of the shower.

His pager vibrated on the vanity and he let out a sigh.

He ran his fingers through his hair, grabbed a change of clothes, put a new pair of scrubs back on, and was out the door within ten minutes.

>>> 

Dean was still asleep when Castiel arrived back at the hospital, and the clinic had a few patients in, mostly little children with worried parents.

Meg waved him in, and he set his bag down in the break room.

“Here’s your coffee. We have a six-week-old with signs of pneumonia, a three-year-old with a cough, and a child who might have broken his arm falling off the top bunk of his bed.”

Castiel smiled and waved in the mother with the baby.

“Come on in, I’ll get you set up in a room.”

<<< 

September 25, 2010

Three days. It had been three days since Dean had come out of surgery, and it had been three days since Castiel had his first dream about Dean.

Castiel was in heat.

The neutralizers he had been taking had a grace period of a week to give his body time to go through a full cycle, lest he end back up in a rut again. So, here he was, walking around the clinic, deodorant and cleansers in his pocket in case he began to stink up the room again. He had on a pair of adult underwear, since it was easier to replace than the padding he used to wear, to protect his scrubs from his slick.

Meg had been kind enough to provide him with heat packs for the backaches and enough coffee to keep him from sleeping during clinic hours. She reminded him when to take his medication and to keep drinking water ‘so you don’t become _dehydrated_ , Clarence!’. It was enough to keep him in good spirits through the day.

Dean still hadn’t woken up from surgery, but there were signs he would soon. His heart rate had been steadily rising, he was taken off of the respirator and was breathing on his own just fine, and his cheeks were finally flushed back red.

He was working on some paperwork when Meg came into his exam room.

“Clarence?”

“Meg, I’m not in the mood.”

“I think Dean’s waking up.”

Castiel looked up and walked out with Meg, his hands wringing together in front of him.

“How do you know?”

“I checked his reflexes, and he’s reacting to pain and light stimuli. It could just be automatic reflexes, but I want you to come see him just to be sure.”

Through a doorway, down a hall, and two right turns later, they were back in the ICU, where Dean was still in trauma bay 1.

He turned the lights in the room on and pulled two gloves from the box hanging on the wall.

“Alright, Dean. Let’s see if you’ll open your eyes for us.”

Castiel grabbed his pen light and began to wave it over Dean’s left eye. It responded to the light by contracting, and he smiled. He moved to his right eye, which did the same. “Good job, Dean. I’m gonna rub my hand to your chest, okay?” Dean didn’t respond, so Castiel pressed his knuckles to his sternum and began to rub, checking his reaction. His neck muscles tensed, and Castiel smiled wider. “Great, you’re doing great.”

Meg turned to Castiel and handed him a syringe.

“I think he’s ready.”

Castiel injected the liquid directly into his IV line and watched.

Dean didn’t move.

Castiel tossed the needle in the biohazard box and threw his gloves away.

“He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

>>> 

12:39 p.m.

Castiel sat in the chair next to Dean, poking at his lunch with a plastic fork. He had never been one for salads, but he decided to try it while he craved junk food. He took a bite and made a face before setting it on the bedside table. He picked up the half a tuna sandwich he had wanted anyway and took a quick bite, his eyes setting on the sleeping man in the bed. He sighed quietly.

“You know, Dean, I’ve never been one to open up to strangers, but I think we know each other enough for this to not be too awkward.” He waited for a response. When he didn’t get one, he continued.

“I grew up comfortable, I think I’ve told you that before. I grew up in a huge family with lots of money and basically anything I could ask for. I grew up as the smart one, destined to do whatever I could ever dream to do. My parents supported me every step of the way, and I think it made me a confident person. Truth is, I think it made me the opposite way. I think I grew up afraid of failure, afraid of disappointing everyone around me.

“High expectations were always demanded of me, especially when I decided to become a doctor. ‘Be a neurosurgeon, be an oncologist, do this, do that.’ My parents were supportive of me being an emergency physician, but I don’t think they supported me, just wanted to make sure I did the best.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“My parents are coming to town next week. I don’t know how to approach them. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m not making what they think I am, I don’t know how to tell them that I’m gonna stay here and see this through. I still don’t think I can even approach the subject that I’m gay, or even if I will. I’m quite lost, and I have no idea how to fix it.”

He finished his sandwich and threw out his garbage. He turned to leave but gave Dean one last look.

Dean opened his eyes for a few seconds, then closed them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back. I had to focus on my job for a while, so here's a chapter, and i'm already working on the next chapter. Please enjoy. Also, i love reading your comments of support. It keeps me from abandoning it altogether. Lots of love!   
> ~Axton

October 2nd, 2010. 5:30 am.

Cold, crisp morning air hit his nose before anything else. He turned and looked around, seeing only streetlights and a stray car leaving out on the main road. He rolled up his sleeves and took off down the sidewalk.

Down the street, around the block, through the field, and to trail he went, without missing a beat.

The trailhead began at the left-hand corner of the field, which is where he would meet Dean and they would stretch. He went through his stretches quickly and took off at the sign.

He fell into stride quickly and evened out his breathing, closing his eyes for a few seconds. He opened them back up and took in the familiar sights of the colored trees. A soft mist had settled overnight and the dew hit his face in small droplets, the scent of pine and dirt wafting in his face.

He took a sharp turn around the trail and began to loop back to the field. He took off in a sprint, swinging his arms higher with each step, and he passed by the sign and through to the field, jumping in the air and laughing.

“Beat you, Dean!”

He walked to the sidewalk to calm his heart and catch his breath, and he walked back to his house to get ready for the day.

>>>

6:00 am

Castiel stepped into the clinic, bag slung onto his shoulder and drooping from the number of books it was filled with. He picked up a chart and looked at Meg.

“Do you mind getting me some coffee, dear?”

She nodded and got up from her computer. Castiel looked over the chart and looked at the three people in the chairs.

“Mr. Jones, would you come with me please?”

<<<

9:42 am

He pulled off his gloves and threw them in the bin, then went to the sink to wash his hands. He sighed, grabbing a paper towel to dry off. He left the exam room and went to his office, where a cold cup of half drank coffee sat on his desk, next to an open medical book stuck on one page. He closed the door behind him and made his way over to his desk, plopping himself down in the chair and leaning back to stretch. He leaned forward and looked at the page he was skimming. He picked up his highlighter and began to look for his notes.

The necessity of continuous learning had been put on hold for the week with the clinic rush of colds and flu shots, Dean’s recovery care, and dealing with the death of Gary Herman, his first loss of life since moving to Milton. He had been burned severely from the resulting fire after the crash. They kept him stable enough to be transferred to a burn unit outside of Pierre, but he crashed before they could get him into the helicopter and he didn’t stabilize again. He passed an hour after the helicopter had arrived, and Castiel was manic, trying to revive the man.

He placed his head against the desk, and he let out a deep breath. A sharp knock at the door had him sitting up straight and pretending to work at his computer.

“Come in.”

The door pushed open and Amara peeked her head in. Castiel looked up from his computer and he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Mom?”

He got up and she came into the office, Chuck following closely behind.

“Dad?”

“How’s my boy doing?”

He got up and gave each person a hug before motioning for them to sit in front of his desk. He sat back down, smiling at them.

“So, what brings you to my small neck of the woods?”

Chuck leaned forward and smiled.

“I believe we discussed a visit to see how our baby boy is doing in this... _quaint_ town and as chief of medicine of Milton Mercy!”

He rolled his eyes and smiled.

“I’m doing well, dad. Honestly, I love how small this town is. It was a big change at first, but everyone knows everyone. Mary, one of my nurses, makes some of the best pie around. Her son, Dean, is a police officer and his brother, Sam, is a lawyer who graduated top of his class from Harvard Law. Meg, the head nurse, is a sweetheart who makes me coffee every morning like she did with Greg, and she has a passion for nursing, especially in the pediatric department.”

Amara and Chuck shared a look and Amara turned back to Castiel.

“I’m just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Cas. Don’t you miss being close to your family, though? You know your little sisters miss their big brother.”

He rubbed his hand to his head and he nodded.

“I do miss being near family, but I enjoy being here as well. The people are so kind. How about this: after my shift, I’ll take you around to meet some of the locals, and I’ll see if John and Mary would like to come over for dinner.”

He stood up and they followed suit, nodding in agreement and Amar placed her hand on his arm.

“Bring that girl you mentioned, Meg. I would like to meet you girlfriend.”

Castiel blushed.

“Mom, she’s not my girlfriend. We’re colleagues.”

“Whatever you say, chief.”

They shared one last hug before leaving. He closed the door behind him, walked back over to his desk, and placed his face on the wood. He groaned and leaned back, soon getting back to work in his book.

>>>

September 25, 2010

Darkness.

It was dark and quiet, he knew he was asleep, but he couldn’t tell it he was. The last thing he remembered was losing the truck.

“ _...not be too awkward..._ ”

A familiar voice, it seems. Doctor Novak, maybe. He couldn’t tell. His eyes were too heavy to open.

“ _...opposite way...afraid of failure, afraid of disappointing..._ ”

It was definitely Doctor Novak, he could recognize the voice anywhere. His eyes were still heavy, but he tried to open them.

“ _...don’t think they supported...did the best...I’m gay...I’m quite lost..._ ”

He forced himself to open his eyes. It was blurry, but he saw someone moving around. He looked toward that direction and he was the shadow move toward him and a bright light shined in both of his eyes.

“Hey, take it easy. You’re in the hospital.”

He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

<<<

September 26th, 2010. 3:27 am

He awoke to a dark room, his mother by his side, asleep in the chair. His father was asleep with his head on the bed. He looked around the room, now realizing where he was. The monitor beeped quietly, and the tickle of oxygen being pushed into his nose pointed to him being in the hospital. He looked down at his left hand and saw an IV line, and he looked to his right to find his arm wrapped in a cast. His legs were covered with blankets, and he tried to move them only to have sharp pain shoot up through his body. He let out an audible groan, and Mary and John were up, looking at Dean with such worry in their eyes that it took him a second to register how severe his accident had been.

“Dean, take it easy. You’re in the hospital.”

“I think-” He stopped mid-sentence, realizing how dry his mouth was. Mary pushed a straw to his lips and he took a drink, letting the liquid wash over his mouth. “Thanks, mom.”

Mary set the cup down and John let out a sigh.

“You remember what happened?”

Dean stared up at the ceiling.

“I remember going out to respond to a call. I lost him, and I called it in. I was at a stop sign, I was gonna head back to the station, and I heard a car honk. I can’t remember the rest.”

Mary bit her lip and spoke up.

“You got into an accident. The man you lost hit you, your car rolled. Mrs. Shirley and Mrs. Derma thought you were dead. The called as soon as it happened.”

Dean nodded.

“No wonder I’m sore.”

John let out a small chuckle, and Dean smiled. Mary placed a hand on his forehead.

“Get some rest, I’ll let the doctor know.”

>>>

7:30 am

The lights flipped on, awaking Dean. The sharp smell of pine and cinnamon wafted into the room, having Dean sitting up a bit straighter. He looked over and saw Castiel and Meg putting on their gloves. Castiel walked over to Dean’s side, and the scent came over him. His eyes widened and Castiel smiled.

“Good morning, Dean. How are you feeling?”

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then he stopped, and began to stammer.

“I’m f-fine. In a bit of pain.”

Castiel nodded.

“One to ten?”

“About a five.”

He turned to Meg and nodded.

“Give him a little bit more.”

She pushed something into his line and he leaned back to relax.

“What happened to me, doc?”

Castiel pulled a chair over and sat down.

“You were in a car accident with a drunk driver, and your car rolled. The EMTs thought they were going to be picking up bodies. You’re pretty beaten up. We had to remove your spleen and reset your arm. You bruised your bones on your left leg, as for your right we had to surgically reset it. You’re not going to be chasing bad guys for a while, Dean.”

Dean looked down at the sheets on the bed and nodded.

“I understand, doc. Is there any way I can return to the force, though?”

Castiel looked to Meg before shaking his head.

“You’re going to be in and out of physical therapy for a good few months while you heal. I’m taking you off work for a couple of weeks, and then you’re gonna be on desk duty for a while.”

Dean nodded again and leaned back.

“How’s Herman? Is he okay?”

Castiel placed a hand on the bed and shook his head.

“He passed away a few hours after he arrived.”

Dean bit his lip.

“How am I gonna tell his family?”

Meg finally spoke up.

“They’ve been notified already. You just need to rest.”

Castiel stood up and went and changed his gloves.

“Let me see how your burns are doing.”

<<<

September 27th, 2010. 9:45 am

Dean looked over at his door to see Castiel and Meg peaking in, and once they met his eyes, they brought in the wheelchair.

“I thought you might want to go on a walk since you haven’t been on a run in a few days.”

Dean laughed and nodded. Meg brought the chair over and helped him into the chair. Castiel came up behind him and began to push him out of the room and down the hall. They went out the double doors to the designated smoking area and out the gate. He pushed him out and they began to walk around the hospital. Dean took in the now familiar scent of pine and aftershave, and he leaned his head back to look up at the sky.

The clouds turned the sky into a gray, hazy overcast day, making the autumn air cool enough to give him chills when he took a breath. The leaves on the trees scattered around the facility had begun to change color and fall off the trees in a blanket of yellows, oranges, and light reds. He leaned his head further back to look up at the doctor pushing him in the chair.

He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the light scruff on his neck was evident enough. The subtle aftershave smell was fading, but the warm spice and pine scent was still strong. The baby blue sweater that he was wearing under his lab coat ended just underneath the collar of his white dress shirt, and a navy-blue tie peaked out from underneath all of the fabric.

“Why are you dressed up so nice, doc?”

Castiel laughed and Dean dropped his head.

“Oh, I'm just practicing being ‘chief of medicine’ until my parents arrive.”

They turned a corner and passed by a nurse on her break.

“What do you mean ‘chief of medicine’?”

They walked back into the hospital and went back to Dean’s room.

“I’ll tell you later.”

>>>

October 2nd, 2010. 7:39 am

Dean sat with his food tray in front of him. He looked up at Meg with a displeased face.

“Dean, eat.”

“Where’s Novak? He missed lunch yesterday, he promised to come in for breakfast.”

“He’s probably with another patient.”

Dean crossed his arms.

“Then I wait.”

Meg sighed and sat down in a chair next to him, picking up her magazine and propping her feet on his bed.

“You’re an ass.”

“You love me.”

Three sharp knocks signaled Castiel’s entrance, holding a parfait and bottle of juice in one hand and a file in the other.

“Sorry I’m late. I hope I can make it up to you.”

Dean smiled and Meg got up to leave, patting Castiel on the arm.

Castiel pulled the chair Meg was sitting in closer to the bed and pulled a second chair closer to use as a table. Dean pulled his tray closer to himself, and he turned the TV on to a daytime soap opera so there would be background noise.

“Again, I’m sorry about yesterday. Mrs. Jones came back in.”

Dean laughed and took a bite out of his fruit cup.

“What about this time?”

Castiel shoved a spoonful of granola in his mouth and shrugged.

“She didn’t think I prescribed her the right medication.”

“Sounds like Matilda to me.”

They talked about anything they could think of: football, the weather, how cold Castiel got in the middle of the night when his heater went out, cleaning up the garden, the community, and holidays. Dean let out a loud laugh at Castiel’s remark about October.

“How can anyone hate pumpkins?”

“I told you! I was six, my three brothers thought it would be funny to put pumpkin guts in my shoes. It became a yearly tradition. Imagine trying to catch a bad guy with pumpkin guts in your boots. I couldn’t make my rounds in my internship during October.”

Castiel looked down to his watch and had another spoonful of yogurt before picking up his trash. He threw it away and went back to his seat, putting his feet up on the chair he used for a table. He ran his fingers through his hair.

“I-”

“My-”

“You go first.”

“I was going to ask you, since you’re still new to Milton and all, and you haven’t experienced it in all its glory, if I’m out by then, if you wanted to join my family at the fall festival.”

Castiel leaned back and nodded.

“That sounds delightful.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Remember when I said I was practicing being ‘chief of medicine’?”

“Yeah, that was weird.”

“My parents are visiting, and they have been on me about moving to such a small town to work, but I told them I was being promoted to Chief of Medicine here. I didn’t tell them I was just the Head of Emergency Medicine.”

Dean nodded.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged and got up.

“I’ll see when it comes up.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo, another chapter for your reading pleasure

October 2nd, 2010. 8:22 pm.

Three sharp knocks and Castiel came in. He flipped on one light to see better, looking over at Dean.

“Hey, sorry about the late visit.”

Dean looked over from the TV and nodded.

“You’ve been busy, chief. Doing your thing.”

Castiel smiled sheepishly before grabbing a pair of gloves. Dean groaned.

“Again?”

“You’ve got a lot of injuries to worry about. We don’t want you getting an infection on top of everything else.”

Dean sighed and moved the blanket form his legs. Castiel turned on the light behind his bed to see clearer.

He began by changing the dressings on his burns, flushing out the area with saline and checking for signs of infection before replacing the gauze. Dean didn’t even flinch, and he made a mental note of his pain tolerance. He then moved down to check on the stitches from the surgical site, replacing the bandages as well. It would be a few more days before they could remove the stitches. He moved further down, finally addressing his leg that was wrapped in the cast. He pinched his exposed toes to make sure he had blood flow down his leg, and he looked up at Dean.

“You seem to be recovering well.”

He cleaned up the old dressings and threw them in the biohazard container before pulling his gloves off and washing his hands. He turned back to Dean, walking over and plopping himself down in the chair next to him. He looked at Dean and finally let out a sigh.

“I’m having dinner with my parents tonight.”

Dean nodded.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I was going to see if we could stay in tonight and just have dinner with your parents as well, you know, get to know the locals and all. I guess my dad opted to go to dinner outside of town, and now I have reservations at 9 at the Orica.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open, but he soon closed it and leaned back.

“That’s pretty fancy considering they’re only visiting.”

“You don’t know my parents, then.”

Dean nodded to himself.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Castiel turned to him, took a deep breath in, and nodded.

“I guess. I mean, you don’t mind long stories, do you?”

Dean shook his head.

“Not at all. You’ve got some time.”

Castiel sighed and rubbed his fingers to his temple.

“Where to start, where do I start? I was born third in a family of eleven brothers and sisters. Very high expectations placed on myself and my brothers, since one of us were to inherit the family business. My parents started a pharmaceutical company because they saw how expensive most life-saving drugs were and they wanted to make a change. It exploded and now the Novak brand is in nearly every hospital in North America.

“After we got rich, my parents started expecting more from us. Each one of my brothers had to get a degree in something, most of us were pressured towards a medical degree. Michael got a degree in business management, but he hasn’t found a job that’s a good fit for him. Lucifer got a master’s in accounting and is the head accountant at the Royal Bank of Scotland. Gabriel, one of my brothers I lived with before I came here, got his teaching certificate, but he’s just a substitute. He’s been trying to get a job at a high school in Chicago for a few years now. Balthazar just doesn’t know what he wants to do, he got a degree in liberal arts. Uriel got a master’s in political science and now he’s a US senator. We don’t see him too often. Samandriel never went to college, but he owns a bunch of little restaurants scattered around Illinois.

“My sisters are still quite young. Hannah’s a veterinarian, she loves working with animals. She tried to convince my parents that we needed a farm. Anna’s been traveling the world since she turned 18. She said she wants to see what she can before college. Naomi, Ariel, and Emma are in high school, but Naomi is set to graduate this year and she’s got a scholarship set up at Yale, she wants to be a pediatrician.”

He looked at his watch before continuing.

“I was the first kid to try to get into medical school, and I was six when I told my parents I wanted to be a doctor. My dad wanted me to study to become a neurosurgeon. My mom wanted me to study to be an oncologist, and I was given a lot of grief for not knowing what kind of doctor I wanted to be.

“My father had a stroke when I was 15, and the lack of emergency physicians at the hospital we took him to made me want to become one. I graduated from high school, went to UC Davis on a full ride, and studied emergency medicine. My parents didn’t know until I visited my sophomore year, and they couldn’t believe that I wanted to go into such a ‘low paying, deplorable sector of medicine’. The thing I find ironic is that most of their products are made for emergency medicine. Most of the single use items have the Novak mark on it.”

Dean looked over at Castiel, who was now rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“They didn’t even flinch when I told them I was going to intern in Los Angeles. They said that they hoped I would find a better practice or go back to school to get a better medical degree, and they sent me off.”

Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and Castiel let out an exasperated laugh.

“I got into a relationship with another intern at Linda Vista. Oliver.”

He shook his head and Dean closed his eyes.

“He was the only one who understood the life. He was in the same boat as me, so I could empathize with him.”

Dean let out a chuckle.

“Alpha?”

“Beta, actually. He was a kind man, but when I told him I was taking up the job here, he broke up with me.”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Castiel.

“So, your family doesn’t approve of you being an emergency physician, let you go without as much as a goodbye, and you were dumped before you got here? I would be peeved that your parents just showed up on a whim as well.”

Castiel looked at him and shrugged.

“They’re family. You can’t just cut them off. They don’t know about Oliver, I don’t think I could handle disappointing them like that. They won’t know about Oliver, because I refuse to talk about my love life in front of them. They think Meg is my girlfriend.”

They both looked at each other before bellowing out a loud laugh.

“She’s a sweetheart but she’s not my type.”

“What is your type?”

“Male, for starters.”

Dean let out another laugh.

“I know the feeling, buddy.”

Castiel’s smile dropped and he looked confused.

“You’re gay too?”

Dean threw his good hand up and waved.

“Shhhhhh, don’t let my mom hear.”

Castiel nodded.

“Don’t tell my mom, and I won’t tell yours.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Pinky swear?”

Castiel held up a fist with his pinky sticking out. Dean held up his good hand and made the pinky swear. Castiel smiled and stood up.

“Gotta remember, I’m a professional. I’ll amputate your pinky if you break our promise.”

Dean gasped and put his hand on his chest in exaggerated horror.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Get some rest, Winchester.”

“Alright, chief.”

>>>

The Orica was considered one of the fancier restaurants within fifty miles of Milton, one that required reservations and had a black-tie dress code. The three-story building hosted some world-renowned chefs that some people had never heard of until their visit. Prices were never explicitly known until the end of the bill, and tipping was considered rude.

Castiel walked into the second floor wearing a maroon sweater with a black dress shirt and tie on, and the host eyed him suspiciously.

“A little underdressed this evening?”

“I’m just meeting my parents for dinner...?”

The man forced a smile and nodded.

“You must be Mr. Novak. Right this way.”

He turned and began to walk into the building. Castiel followed him sheepishly, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. Amara and Chuck were already at a table towards the back of the room, sitting side by side and sipping on glasses of red wine. The host pulled out Castiel’s seat for him and pushed him in. He gave him a small smile in return before turning to his parents, who were both staring at him with blank expressions. He raised an eyebrow at them.

“Is there a problem?”

Chuck waved his hand towards Castiel.

“Is this how you dress every day?”

Castiel picked up his menu and nodded.

“Yeah, dad. I do. It’s comfortable and easy to keep clean.”

Chuck sighed.

“You’re the Chief of Medicine, you need a suit.”

“I have a suit.”

Amara placed her hand on the top of the menu and pushed it down so she could see him.

“Honey, you’re the representative of Novak Pharmaceuticals and the face of Milton Mercy, you need to dress like it.”

Castiel sighed this time, rolling his eyes.

“I still practice medicine, I need something that’s easy to rinse vomit off of.”

The patrons of the restaurant in their vicinity hushed their conversations and gave Castiel dirty looks. Castiel pulled his menu back up and Chuck let out a little chuckle.

“What do you mean you’re still practicing medicine?”

“I mean that, even though I’m Chief, I still practice medicine when they need help. I was there to receive Officer Winchester and Mr. Herman after their car crash.”

Chuck shook his head.

“Seriously?”

“Hun...”

“No, Amara. Castiel, why are you still in emergency medicine? You could’ve been curing cancer or finding the cause of Alzheimer's, and you’re still treating drunk drivers and children with booboos? You have to be kidding me.”

Castiel looked up from his menu and was met with an angry glare from his father. Amara rubbed her hand on Chuck’s should comfortingly.

“Honey, he’s still a doctor.”

“It shouldn’t matter what I do with medicine, I’m helping people in this town.”

“I don’t believe you’re Chief of Medicine.”

“I’m actually not. I’m just a resident.”

Amara’s eyes widened and Chuck’s mouth dropped. He went to say something when the waiter walked up to the table with a bottle of wine.

“More wine?”

Castiel nodded.

“Three Old Fashions while you’re at it. Thank you.”

The man poured each of them a glass of wine and Castiel downed his glass quickly. Chuck’s face slowly grew redder with each drawing second, and he finally spoke in an unnervingly calm voice.

“What did you say about your job?”

Castiel smiled at his parents.

“I’m head of Emergency Medicine and the clinic resident physician. I’m not Chief of Medicine, and I definitely don’t make six figures.”

He looked at his wine glass to see it empty. He set it down and tapped his fingers on the table. Chuck didn’t say anything else, and the waiter came back with their drinks. Castiel pulled out his wallet and threw a twenty on the table.

“For the drinks.”

He got up, and went to walk away, but he stopped and turned back towards his parents.

“By the way, I’m gay.”

He walked out of the restaurant and didn’t look back.

<<<

October 3rd, 2010. 4:00 am

_Buzz._

_Buzz._

_Buzz._

His phone hadn’t stopped ringing since he walked out of the restaurant, and he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. His phone buzzed on the nightstand next to him and he knew he couldn’t turn it off in case something happened. He set a pillow underneath the phone to dull the noise, but he still couldn’t go back to sleep. He threw the sheets off of himself, deciding to run his route twice before he went to work.

He got up and pulled on a thick pair of socks and his running shoes. Foregoing his shirt, he grabbed his headphones and iPod and headed out of the house.

Down the street, around the block, through the field, and to the trail, he sprinted, not caring about stretching. His lungs burned as they filled with the cold, humid air and he couldn’t stop running. He jumped over the tree roots he normally avoided, pushing to speeds he didn’t know he could reach. At the end of the trail he stopped, trying to catch his breath. He leaned over and looked up at the trees, noticing how the leaves were chaining colors and dropping leaves. He straightened up and took off running again. Sprinting back to the finish line, he laughed and jumped over tree routes, gaining height.

He was going great, and he misjudged his placement for jumping into the ‘finish’ line. His left foot landed fine, his right foot slid with the slickness of the dewed grass, and he fell into the field, landing quite roughly into the ground. He sat up quickly, laughing it off. He stood up and brushed off the dirt from his arms and legs. He walked the rest of the way home, nursing a bruised arm.

He walked into his house to find he had thirty new text messages from his parents and now his siblings. He tossed it onto his bed and got ready for his day.

>>>

12:57 pm

“How’d it go last night?”

“Oh my God, Dean. I wanted to die.”

Dean laughed and Castiel gave him a sad smile.

“Tell me everything.”

“I told my parents I wasn’t Chief of Medicine.”

“Oh shit.”

Castiel leaned back in his designated chair with a box of chow mien and chopsticks in his lap.

“I also told them I was gay.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I said it and I left. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about coming out anymore.”

Castiel nodded and he bit his lip.

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t. It’s gonna be fine.”

He turned to look at Dean and crossed his arms.

“When’s this festival you were talking about?”

“It’s on the eighth.”

Castiel thought about it for a moment before nodding.

“Sounds good.”

<<<

October 4th, 2010. 10:45

Dean stretched his arm above his head and hissed at the tug of his stitches. His mom turned to him and gently lowered his arm.

“You need to watch it, mister. Don’t want you popping a few and getting on Doctor Novak’s bad side.”

“He doesn’t have a bad side.”

She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes.

“Whatever you say.”

Three knocks and Castiel was in the room with a wheel chair.

“Well, Dean, I can officially say that you are a free man. You are going to be at home until your arm is out of that cast, though.”

He pushed the chair next to Dean’s bed, helping the man down and adjusting him so he was comfortable.

“Thanks, doc.”

“Go get some rest. I sent the recovery care with your mother.”

He began to push the chair out of his room, and the SVU team was waiting in the hall with balloons, flowers, and cards. Olivia stepped forward and leaned down to hug Dean.

“We caught the guy. She’s gonna be alright. We’re just happy you’re okay now.”

Dean nodded and lifted his casted arm to wave at everyone.

“Tell Cap I said hi.”

Castiel pushed him through the doors of the hospital entrance and John was waiting with Dean’s ‘67 Impala in front of the building. Dean smiled widely.

“You brought baby? Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry.”

Castiel laughed and he helped Dean into the car.

“She’s gorgeous. I hope she takes care of you.”

Castiel turned to leave, but Dean caught his arm.

“Promise you’ll come by for lunch?”

Castiel turned and nodded.

“Deal.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor smut

October 8th, 2010. 7:30 pm.

Castiel adjusted his tie in the mirror, stepping back to take a better look at himself. His blue dress shirt fit snug on his shoulders and stomach, and the black vest helped cover up most of the wrinkles. A black tie to match, beige dress pants, and a navy-blue sweater completed his outfit. He turned to each side, trying to see how he looked from each angle. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He picked up his glasses and grabbed his keys, locking up the house and making his way to his car.

It was only a few minutes' drive to the Winchesters’ house to pick up Dean, and he was waiting in his wheelchair outside of their home, Sam and John standing behind him. Castiel pulled up to the curb and stepped out, walking up the driveway to meet them. Dean smiled up at him.

“Normally I would be the one to pick someone up, but I can’t right now.”

Sam patted him on the shoulder.

“Relax, it’s a one-time deal, you’ll be driving before you know it.”

Castiel nodded and John shook Castiel’s hand.

“He’s in good hands.”

Castiel came up behind Dean and pushed him over to the car. He opened the door and helped Dean into the car, stashing his chair in the trunk. He waved at John before pulling out to the main road. Dean leaned back in the seat and looked at Castiel.

He could see the light scruff on his face again, but it was trimmed down enough just to look like stubble, and honeydew and mint was mixed in with the normal pine scent, which threw Dean off.

“No neutralizers?”

Castiel shrugged.

“I ran out. I picked up what I could find at the store. I kind of like this smell. It’s a bit softer than what I use.”

Dean nodded and Castiel glanced at him.

“Where am I going?”

“Oh! Right, uhm, just follow the road out to Murphy’s barn. He’s always generous enough to host for us.”

Castiel nodded and followed the main road out of town and towards the farms that he passed when he first came to Milton. Sure enough, the sign for Murphy’s family farm pointed him towards brightly lit carnival rides and a decorated sign that announced ‘Milton’s 45th Annual Fall Festival’. He pulled to the side of the road and parked a few cars down from the opening in the field. He pulled Dean’s chair out and helped him into it, locking up the car as he did.

He could already smell burnt sugar and warm spices, hear the sound of children laughing and a band playing in the background. He started to walk into the field, and he had to stop and take in the sight.

Farmers were walking around with baskets full of the harvest: apples, squash, pumpkins of all sizes and colors, and carrots. Children with their parents, tugging on their legs and eating cotton candy or popcorn balls. A few vendors were selling the sweets and some seasonal favorites like mulled wine. A main stage sat a little further in, and a band was playing the blues. Carnival rides were scattered about, mixed in with a farmer walking alongside his horse and giving people free rides. String lights hung everywhere, giving the field a warm glow. Dean nudged Castiel.

“Just gonna stare or are we gonna get something to eat?”

Castiel shook his head and smiled down at Dean, his eyes full of wonder and happiness.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve never been to something like this before. I love it.”

Dean laughed.

“Come on, let’s get some food and then we can discuss it.”

<<<

7:45 pm

They sat on a bench near the stage so they could listen to the music while having dinner. Dean convinced Castiel to get some of Nista’s stew and cheese bread, a few mini pies from Mary, and split a caramel apple from one of the sweets stands. Castiel blew on his stew and looked over at Dean, who was already shoving spoonfuls in his mouth.

“Whoa, you okay?”

Dean smiled with a full mouth and nodded. Castiel laughed and picked up his plastic spoon, running it through the broth before taking a sip. His eyes widened and he looked at Dean again.

“Wow, okay, I get it.”

He took some of his bread and dipped it into the broth, taking a bigger bite this time.

“Damn, okay, locals make some great food.”

Dean finally swallowed and laughed.

“You poor city boy, we don’t do fast food around here. This is true local cuisine, and it’s a lot better because of local produce.”

Castiel picked up a slice of the caramel apple and took a small bite, closing his eyes and smiling wider.

“You’re totally right.”

>>>

8:05 pm

Walking around the field, Castiel learned there were more vendors selling local arts and crafts, and a teenager he recognized was sitting under her pop-up, painting red lines on a blank canvas. She had a few pieces framed and displayed, and he drew his attention to a painting of a grassy hill and two shadows sitting on the top. A sunset was set around the figures, and he blinked a few times. She looked up from her canvas and met Castiel’s eyes. She was the girl Dean had brought in before he was in his accident, and he quickly looked back at the artwork he liked.

“How much?”

She shrugged.

“How much do you want to pay for it?”

He pulled out his wallet and handed her two crisp hundred-dollar bills.

“Thank you.”

He went to pick up the painting, but she stopped him and gave him back one of his bills.

“I think you made a mistake.”

He handed it back to her.

“Keep it.”

He picked up the painting, and Dean took it to hold onto while they continued to walk around.

<<<

8:15 pm

Back at their original bench with cups of warm mulled wine, the painting, and two matching beanies on their heads, they sat to watch the new band that had come up on the stage, and listened to Christmas carols being sung way too early in October. Castiel pulled his beanie down a little more to cover his ears, and his wine fogged his glasses. He pulled them off and Dean turned to look and caught the brightest blue eyes looking straight at him. His mouth went dry for a moment, and he forgot what he was going to say.

Blue as light as the sky, but darkened from the lack of light in their corner of the festival, big and round like two glass marbles, and Castiel shifted his gaze away for a moment to look at his glasses. Dean looked at his lap, and when he looked back up, Castiel’s face was mere inches from him, and he nearly spilled his wine.

“Cas, personal space, buddy.”

He blinked and sat back down.

“Sorry, I’ve just never seen such rich pigment in someone’s iris before.”

Dean blushed.

“I have no idea what you said, but thank you.”

He sipped his wine and Castiel put his glasses back on.

“I’ve never seen eyes so green before.”

Dean nodded and set his cup down.

“I’ve never seen eyes so blue before.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Oh, you mean mine. Sorry, yeah, it’s kind of a family thing I guess. Almost all of the Novaks have bright blue eyes. Green is just so... rare nowadays, especially that bright.”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and he looked over towards the carnival rides, trying to change the subject.

“Let’s go ride something before they close down for the night.”

“Not with you in a chair like that.”

“Don’t be such a buzzkill. C’mon, I bet there’s a thing or two I can go on.”

Castiel stood up and drank the rest of his wine. He threw their garbage away.

“I guess...”

“That’s the spirit!”

He began to push Dean towards the carnival rides, but he stopped to look at the games instead.

“I think I've got a few singles on me. Wanna play?”

“You’re on!”

Water gun race was the first one closest to them, so he placed Dean on the first one and he took second. He looked around at the prizes, and he pointed at a small stuffed bear.

“That one.”

“You sure?”

“You scared?”

“Oh, it’s on!”

The man behind the counter got them set up to go, and Castiel handed him a few dollars. The bell rang and both men started to aim at the target, Castiel getting in line before Dean.

“No fair, you’re a doctor!”

“And you’re a police officer, you should have better aim than me!”

Castiel’s balloon popped and he jumped up in excitement.

“Yeah!” The man handed him the little bear and Castiel handed it to Dean.

“For you.”

“Seriously?”

“We have more games to play, so yes, this is for you.”

>>>

8:59 pm

“Four tickets, please.”

Castiel smiled sweetly at the attendant at the carnival rides, and he handed her a five-dollar bill. She counted out four tickets and handed them to him.

“Aren’t you a little old to be going on kiddy rides?”

He shook his head.

“Never too old to ride a Ferris wheel.”

She nodded and he turned to Dean, handing him two tickets. He pushed Dean towards the back of the carnival rides where a tall, rainbow lit Ferris wheel sat. They were getting close to the end of the festival, as the two had arrived a few hours after it had opened, and it had been the best hour and a half he’d experienced since his college years. Dean had brought him to a local festival with lots of delicious, local food, great music, local art, and he was spending time with one of his new friends from the town.

He set Dean next to the gate. He helped him up the ramp to the base of the Ferris wheel, where he gave the supervisor their tickets. He sat Dean down first and then sat next to him. The ride started to bring them up, and there was a bright flash of light. Fireworks exploded in the air, shimmers of yellow and white at first, and then reds and blues, all beautiful in their own glory. The ride stopped at the top, and his heart was racing. The fireworks were beautiful, and Castiel looked at Dean, who was staring at the sky in wonder. It felt as if his heart had jumped into his throat, and he could only think about putting his lips on Dean’s. He looked back to the sky, and the ride kicked on again, lowering them down. He swallowed thickly and Dean reached over with his good hand and patted his shoulder, making him jump.

“Thanks for taking me, Cas. This was great.”

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Should get you home so you can rest. It’s cold, don’t want you to get sick.”

Dean rolled his eyes. The car docked at the bottom and the supervisor let them down. Castiel helped him down to his chair, and for once he was glad to behind and have something hiding the obvious bulge in his pants.

They stopped by the bench and picked up Castiel’s new art piece and Dean’s bear. Mary met up with them as they made their way to Castiel’s car, and she pulled Castiel aside. Castiel leaned against his car and crossed his legs, trying to draw less attention to himself.

“Thank you for bringing my son. Do you mind if I take him home from here? I know you want to get some sleep before work tomorrow.”

Castiel nodded.

“I can’t say no to you, Mrs. Winchester. Goodnight, Dean!”

He waved to Dean, and Dean waved back. His mom got behind him and began to push him to her car. Castiel placed his art in the back seat and he got into the driver’s side, leaning down and resting his head to the steering wheel.

<<<

_Fireworks exploded around them in beautiful blues and greens, and he looked at Dean to find him looking back at him. His heart leapt into his throat, and he leaned closer. Their noses touched, their lips not even an inch away. He could smell the Impala all over Dean, old leather and polish with gunpowder and aftershave, he smelled warmth from Dean. His eyes met emeralds, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe._

_“Dean.”_

_Dean let out a long sigh, and he placed a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer._

_“Cas.”_

_Castiel leaned in and closed the distance, finally pressing his lips to his. The kiss was chaste and quick, and he pulled back to find he was alone in darkness. He looked around, searching for the man he was just with._

_“Dean?”_

2:33 am

Castiel’s eyes snapped open to stark darkness, and he sat up, rubbing his face and letting out a sigh. His face was covered in cold sweat, his heart racing. He shifted his legs and oh, there was an uncomfortable tightness in his crotch. He got up and pulled on a pair of socks before walking to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water. Once he finished the first glass, he got another, and made his way back to bed. His erection hadn’t eased up yet, so he laid back and pushed his boxers down.

He placed his hand over his hard on, hissing at the coldness of his hand. He lazily moved his hand around, seeing if he would feel better after a light touch, and he bit his lip and tried to clear his mind.

He found himself thinking about Dean on the Ferris wheel, and how beautiful the light of the fireworks looked on his face, how his eyes were lit up and bright with happiness, and how he wanted to just lean over and kiss him.

He tightened his grip on himself and began to move his hand a little faster, a quiet moan escaping his lips. His stomach tightened up and his thoughts drifted again.

Dean was fit, given that he was a police officer. He remembered the first time he saw him without his shirt, when he stitched up his stab wound. Tanned and toned skin, he imagined what it would feel like to place his hands on him, to just touch him. His hand moved faster, and he thought about how sharp his jawline was, even more pronounced in the dark, and how he was always set in a stoic demeanor, on guard and ready to strike when the time came.

He could feel his stomach tightening, and he was nearing the edge of his orgasm. He bit his lip a little harder, reaching a second hand down to squeeze his balls. He let out a breath and felt pleasure wash over him, and he came into his hand. He tried to catch his breath, feeling his heart racing and his face burning in embarrassment. Once he was calmed down and back to feeling normal, he got up to wash his hands and change boxers. He fell back into bed and went back to sleep.

>>>

2:39 am

Dean tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable enough to go to sleep, but the events of the night kept playing through his head. Castiel had stayed with him almost the entire time, only leaving to get him food or drinks, and he played carnival games with him. He looked over at the little bear that sat on his nightstand and he let out a little laugh. The one toy that he had won he gave to Dean. They had sweets together, went on the Ferris wheel for a ride.

He bit his lip. They had gone on the Ferris wheel to see the fireworks better, but when he looked at Castiel, all he could think about was kissing him. He couldn’t admit it to himself, but the way the light had danced off his glasses and lit up those ocean eyes, he couldn’t resist himself. He wanted to know how he looked after a make out session. Would he be flustered; would his hair be as messy as it normally is or worse?

He turned and placed his face into his pillow. He had only touched his shoulder, but it was enough to leave his hand tingling long after he had gotten home. He wanted to hold his hand, but his arm was in a cast and it would have been awkward. ‘ _We’re just friends, he’s just a good friend._ ’ He groaned and propped himself up with his good arm. He glanced at the clock and turned back to his pillow. He reached down to adjust himself and when he did touch himself, chills shot up his back. He put his hand inside his boxers and began to stroke himself.

He stroked himself to full hardness, and he tightened his grip on himself. He leaned his head back and moaned quietly, biting his lip as he squeezed his sensitive head. He started to imagine a woman and her hand on him.

Long, blonde hair and large breasts were his go-to image, and he smiled to himself. Her hand moved faster on him, and her breasts bounced with the motions. He let out another quiet moan, and he imagined she had baby blue eyes. She stared up at him with such lust and satisfaction, and her hair was soon short and jet black. He bit his lip harder, moving his hand faster. Pleasure seared through his stomach and her hand was replaced with Castiel’s. He stared at Dean, a sly smirk appearing on his face.

Dean didn’t hold out for much longer, and after a few more seconds he came in his boxers, losing what was left of his sexual imagination. He opened his eyes and wiped his hand on his boxers. He felt the shame and embarrassment rise in his chest, flushing his chest and cheeks. He turned onto his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to go to sleep.


End file.
